Open mouth. Insert foot.
That's what I did a few days ago at one of my freelance jobs. One of my new colleagues was telling me about the tongue-in-cheek book he's going to write. I opened my big mouth and told him I'll ghostwrite it for him.
Big mistake.
For the rest of the day, I heard him going up and down the hall telling people he not only had a new friend (me), he also had a ghostwriter (me). Up and down the hall people shook their heads and told me to run.
"Katie, my book, it's going to make you famous," he said.
We laughed, and he went off to work on "his outline."
I went back to my work with two juxtaposed ideas rolling around in my head: ghostwriting and famous.
Those two words don't really go together. Ghostwriters don't ghostwrite to get famous. Most of the time they don't even get credit (or get very little credit).
When a book, article, letter is well done, the ghostwriter is invisible. The ghost strives to match the author’s tone, voice, pattern of speech, thoughts, ideas, etc. The ghostwriter is less so the author is more. The ghost's job is to make the author look good.
I have no problem with ghostwriting because I am a ghostwriter. Yes, pieces I have written have been published under names that are not mine. But even this blog post with my name signed at the bottom is not my own.
The goal of a ghostwriter is to become invisible. As a Christian, should that not be the goal of my entire life: to be invisible so that my Heavenly Father is visible? Should I not be less so that He is more? Should I not do everything I can to make Him look good?
The reality is, we are all ghostwriters.
If we label ourselves Christians, people of Christ, we are ghostwriters, ghost-teachers, ghost-preachers, ghost-truck-drivers, ghost-singers, ghost-firefighters, ghost-painters, ghost-nurses, ghost-accountants, ghost-whatever.
Our job, no matter our career, is to be invisible to make Christ visible.
Whether my name is on it or not, everything I write is ghostwritten because it’s not for my own glory but for the One who deserves it. Every blog post, every novel, every letter, every article, every press release… they are all pieces written for His glory.
I am but a broken pen in the hands of the Author of Life.
It is God who has given me a talent and passion for writing. It is God who has given me the amazing opportunities I’ve encountered. It is God who has give me life and breath.
How could I ever even think about writing for myself?
<>< Katie
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Friday, March 30, 2012
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Lunch with a Stranger
It was a little after 1, and I had somewhere to be at 1:30 and lunch to eat first when I flew into the caf. I got my food and had resolved myself to sit alone, something I actually enjoy doing periodically. I still don't know how I saw her since she was behind me, around the corner, and hidden by the crowd, but I did. She, too, was sitting alone. I walked up and slid my tray onto the table.
"Can I sit here?"
She had food in her mouth but nodded, and I told her I'd be right back. I dropped my bag, left my tray, and went to get my milk. I came back, sat down, prayed the Common Table Prayer, and asked her name. Marta. I recognized it from working check-in that morning. She was a transfer student; it was her first day on campus. I asked how it was going.
As she talked, slowly the tears welled in her eyes. They matched the ones I had been sporting earlier. Sometime between my golf-cart ride to McDonalds with Megan after check-in and this lunch, I discovered the job I had last year was no longer available to me. It was a complicated situation, and I was the victim of the system. I was confused. Upset. Frustrated. Livid. I cried. I called my dad. I cried again. I had a plan: talk to my boss, but I couldn't do that until I knew I was not going to melt in his office.
With a compassionate smile, I asked Marta how many times she had gotten lost that day. Lots. She'd lost her map. She laughed. I laughed. She cried. I cared. By the end of lunch, I had gotten her two new maps. Each had her apartment building circled, the building where her nursing classes would be circled, and a big huge "F" over the building where the food was. What more does a person need, right? I walked her to where she needed to go, and we said goodbye.
I visited my favorite coffee shop to email my hippy boss. My internet's still spotty. "We have a problem," the email said. "When are you going to be in your office?"
Almost instantly he responded, "I'm here now; come on over."
I did. When I walked in, he asked how I was. I said I was cranky. He didn't understand: worms were burrowing and he'd just gotten his iTouch to work after two years; how could I be cranky? Then I told him what happened to my job. He became distressed and no longer cared about the worms. He called his boss who called her boss who promised to work on the mess for me. The hippy told me it was just a matter of faith that the situation would work itself out. It was weird.
At dinner, I saw Marta again. I asked if the rest of her day had improved. She said it had. She even had a new friend! I was so excited for her I "woooh-who-ed" right there in the middle of the caf. I had intended to sit with them, but we got separated in the mob.
It's been four days since I've seen Marta. My job situation has been rectified. My boss's boss's boss, who has a big important title, made some phone calls, got me my job back, and earned himself a hand-written thank you card. I can only hope Marta has memorized her maps, made more than one friend, and is enjoying herself.
I think we both needed each other at that lunch. It was a simple exchange, a breach of the comfort zone, and a world gained. God's way to remind us that He is Jehovah-Jirah, the Lord provider.
<>< Katie
"Can I sit here?"
She had food in her mouth but nodded, and I told her I'd be right back. I dropped my bag, left my tray, and went to get my milk. I came back, sat down, prayed the Common Table Prayer, and asked her name. Marta. I recognized it from working check-in that morning. She was a transfer student; it was her first day on campus. I asked how it was going.
As she talked, slowly the tears welled in her eyes. They matched the ones I had been sporting earlier. Sometime between my golf-cart ride to McDonalds with Megan after check-in and this lunch, I discovered the job I had last year was no longer available to me. It was a complicated situation, and I was the victim of the system. I was confused. Upset. Frustrated. Livid. I cried. I called my dad. I cried again. I had a plan: talk to my boss, but I couldn't do that until I knew I was not going to melt in his office.
With a compassionate smile, I asked Marta how many times she had gotten lost that day. Lots. She'd lost her map. She laughed. I laughed. She cried. I cared. By the end of lunch, I had gotten her two new maps. Each had her apartment building circled, the building where her nursing classes would be circled, and a big huge "F" over the building where the food was. What more does a person need, right? I walked her to where she needed to go, and we said goodbye.
I visited my favorite coffee shop to email my hippy boss. My internet's still spotty. "We have a problem," the email said. "When are you going to be in your office?"
Almost instantly he responded, "I'm here now; come on over."
I did. When I walked in, he asked how I was. I said I was cranky. He didn't understand: worms were burrowing and he'd just gotten his iTouch to work after two years; how could I be cranky? Then I told him what happened to my job. He became distressed and no longer cared about the worms. He called his boss who called her boss who promised to work on the mess for me. The hippy told me it was just a matter of faith that the situation would work itself out. It was weird.
At dinner, I saw Marta again. I asked if the rest of her day had improved. She said it had. She even had a new friend! I was so excited for her I "woooh-who-ed" right there in the middle of the caf. I had intended to sit with them, but we got separated in the mob.
It's been four days since I've seen Marta. My job situation has been rectified. My boss's boss's boss, who has a big important title, made some phone calls, got me my job back, and earned himself a hand-written thank you card. I can only hope Marta has memorized her maps, made more than one friend, and is enjoying herself.
I think we both needed each other at that lunch. It was a simple exchange, a breach of the comfort zone, and a world gained. God's way to remind us that He is Jehovah-Jirah, the Lord provider.
<>< Katie
Saturday, August 21, 2010
The Gang's All Here
Well, summer is over. Even though classes don't start for another few days, I'm back at school. Most students aren't back yet, but all six of the girls in my apartment are back. (Jennifer, Nikki, Allyson, Amy, and Elizabeth) Despite our hectic pre-semester schedules, it's been great to be back together playing Banangrams, being sassed, Wii-ing, being sassed, cuddling, being sassed...
Oh, and the light switches have been fixed. Allelulia! No more being blinded because you, heaven forbid, rolled over in the middle of the night. Now if you sit still for fifteen minutes, which I can do thank you very much, the light goes off. Of the two, I prefer this (I think).
Another glitch in our brand new building is the lack of intenet. Since school is not in session, the computer lab are not open, so I have to butter up to a professor, yes, before school even starts, to check my email. I can survive without internet. Facebook can wait. Email's important, but anyone emailing me urgently right now will accept the "My internet's not connected yet" excuse. The blog, sorry friends, can survive a few days without me. Books, however, need to be ordered. At the beginning of last semester I talked about how I like brand new books and don't mind paying bookstore prices to not have to worry about the hassle. I stand by those opinions. However, this semester my schedule includes a stinky science class with a text book that costs almost a million dollars. A book I'm never going to use again and will not be able to sell. So I Amazoned it. (I just made "Amazon" a verb... it's English). Since I had to order that one online, there were a few others I ordered, too. Well, intended to order. The lack of internet put an impasse on my plan. I'm not making an online purchase from a public computer, sorry.
Periodically, I can get internet when sitting in a certain position on my roommate Jennifer's bed. Ever seen someone putting cell phone in the most bizarre of positions in order to get a signal? Yes, that's me with my computer. When I get Jennifer's Bed internet it's for about ten minutes and that's it for the entire day. This morning, I was starting to get cranky about the situation and stressed about the upcoming semester.
I only had a half hour, so I booted up my computer, plopped it on Jennifer's bed, and began to rant. "God, I can live without internet. I proved that several times this summer and again this week. However, I'm really starting to worry about this upcoming semester. If I could just order my books I'd feel a lot better." I checked my AOL email since it's my internet provider (since 1997!) but before I checked my school email and gmail, before I checked facebook, before I checked the blog (gasp!) I went to Amazon.
Finding the books was quick and easy. Checking out, no problem. I got decent deals and saved a lot of money. Life was good. I hit "Submit this purchase." It went. PAH! I closed amazon and typed "katieax.blogspot.com" into the navigation bar.
"Internet Explorer cannot display the page."
I was moderately annoyed and simultaneously moderately amused. I said I wanted internet to order books. I got internet to order books. I could not help but say, "Thank You, God." The blog. Facebook. Email. All were unnecessary distractions.
Twelve hours later, I'm using some friends for their internet to update my social media outlets, not for work. Life is good.
<>< Katie
Reason of the Day to Laugh at Katie:
I dropped my socks in the toilet. No, they weren't on my feet. Yes, the toilet was empty.
Oh, and the light switches have been fixed. Allelulia! No more being blinded because you, heaven forbid, rolled over in the middle of the night. Now if you sit still for fifteen minutes, which I can do thank you very much, the light goes off. Of the two, I prefer this (I think).
Another glitch in our brand new building is the lack of intenet. Since school is not in session, the computer lab are not open, so I have to butter up to a professor, yes, before school even starts, to check my email. I can survive without internet. Facebook can wait. Email's important, but anyone emailing me urgently right now will accept the "My internet's not connected yet" excuse. The blog, sorry friends, can survive a few days without me. Books, however, need to be ordered. At the beginning of last semester I talked about how I like brand new books and don't mind paying bookstore prices to not have to worry about the hassle. I stand by those opinions. However, this semester my schedule includes a stinky science class with a text book that costs almost a million dollars. A book I'm never going to use again and will not be able to sell. So I Amazoned it. (I just made "Amazon" a verb... it's English). Since I had to order that one online, there were a few others I ordered, too. Well, intended to order. The lack of internet put an impasse on my plan. I'm not making an online purchase from a public computer, sorry.
Periodically, I can get internet when sitting in a certain position on my roommate Jennifer's bed. Ever seen someone putting cell phone in the most bizarre of positions in order to get a signal? Yes, that's me with my computer. When I get Jennifer's Bed internet it's for about ten minutes and that's it for the entire day. This morning, I was starting to get cranky about the situation and stressed about the upcoming semester.
I only had a half hour, so I booted up my computer, plopped it on Jennifer's bed, and began to rant. "God, I can live without internet. I proved that several times this summer and again this week. However, I'm really starting to worry about this upcoming semester. If I could just order my books I'd feel a lot better." I checked my AOL email since it's my internet provider (since 1997!) but before I checked my school email and gmail, before I checked facebook, before I checked the blog (gasp!) I went to Amazon.
Finding the books was quick and easy. Checking out, no problem. I got decent deals and saved a lot of money. Life was good. I hit "Submit this purchase." It went. PAH! I closed amazon and typed "katieax.blogspot.com" into the navigation bar.
"Internet Explorer cannot display the page."
I was moderately annoyed and simultaneously moderately amused. I said I wanted internet to order books. I got internet to order books. I could not help but say, "Thank You, God." The blog. Facebook. Email. All were unnecessary distractions.
Twelve hours later, I'm using some friends for their internet to update my social media outlets, not for work. Life is good.
<>< Katie
Reason of the Day to Laugh at Katie:
I dropped my socks in the toilet. No, they weren't on my feet. Yes, the toilet was empty.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Bedtime Books
When people call my house requesting a specific babysitter, they normally strike out. However, since there are three of us, normally someone else is there to pick up the slack. Somebody called for Laura, but she had a photo shoot, so I was second best. I'm ok with that. I had never babysat for this family before, and Laura had. The kid's mom worked at my high school, and I'd met Cole through day camp, my summer job a few years back.
Cole was pretty well behaved and quite self-sufficient for being five years old. A couple little problems here and there, but he's five. Even the best five year old doesn't always drop everything and do what is requested of him (or her) at that exact moment (not even the best twenty year old does that, eh, Mom? :-)). However, bedtime was a different story. Stall Queen here may have met her match. "Two more kicks with the soccer ball before we go inside." "I can't get my socks off because my legs are made of rubber." "Look, I'm a dummy!" "That's too much toothpaste." "No, I don't want to wear those pajamas"... you know, kid stuff. Yes, I did start counting. I got to two, and Cole picked a book to read. I breathed a sigh of relief; I didn't know what I was going to do if I got to three. No brushing your teeth?
The book Cole picked out was entitled The Human Body, and he flipped through it looking at the pictures and asking questions. That human biology class I took a few semesters back came in handy in an unanticipated way. All else fails, I could just read the words next to the drawings. "That's the ribcage; it's this part of your body." "That's a tooth and there are four different kinds." "The smallest bone in the body is in the ear." Piece of cake! Until we flipped to the last page. When he first turned the page, I was thrilled because it meant the book was almost done and it would be lights out. Except then I remembered what publishers keep on the last page of human body books just to torment unsuspecting babysitters. Yup, as that dawned on me Cole's little fingers slammed down on a drawing showing the differences between boys and girls.
"What's that?"
I lied. I said I didn't know.
Problem: this five year old can read.
"What's 'protection' mean?"
If I'd have been thinking on the spot I could have explained the word in a different context, but the only word that was coming into my head was "condom." Sorry, Cole, not gonna happen. Instead, I changed the subject and said it was time for bed. It was true, and I like to think it I did it in an inconspicuous way; he'd been stalling long enough. I'll be honest, I have no problem with the anatomy subject. Yes, I can say those words without giggling. Just a few months ago I taught a female friend infinitely more than she ever wants to know about male anatomy using my own drawings, textbook diagrams, and webmd. Not a problem. Also not a conversation I'm having with the five year old who had ten minutes earlier asked me to leave his room so he could put on his pajamas. That is not in my job description. Since I think he asked more out of a desire to stall than he did out of a need to know, I didn't even go for the "Ask Mom and Dad." The last thing I wanted was to invoke a, "Daddy, Miss Katie said..." Frankly, I don't think that's a conversation a five year old needs to have and definitely not with a babysitter.
I took the book away before he had the opportunity to read any more words and said it was bedtime. Cole really was just stalling. We moved on to something I'm a little more comfortable with: bedtime prayers. "Now I lay me... and thanks for helping Miss Katie dodge a bullet."
Thoughts? Similar stories?
<>< Katie
PS: In an earlier conversation, Cole told me that with his principal's permission his school's mascot could eat my school's mascot. Thanks a lot.
Cole was pretty well behaved and quite self-sufficient for being five years old. A couple little problems here and there, but he's five. Even the best five year old doesn't always drop everything and do what is requested of him (or her) at that exact moment (not even the best twenty year old does that, eh, Mom? :-)). However, bedtime was a different story. Stall Queen here may have met her match. "Two more kicks with the soccer ball before we go inside." "I can't get my socks off because my legs are made of rubber." "Look, I'm a dummy!" "That's too much toothpaste." "No, I don't want to wear those pajamas"... you know, kid stuff. Yes, I did start counting. I got to two, and Cole picked a book to read. I breathed a sigh of relief; I didn't know what I was going to do if I got to three. No brushing your teeth?
The book Cole picked out was entitled The Human Body, and he flipped through it looking at the pictures and asking questions. That human biology class I took a few semesters back came in handy in an unanticipated way. All else fails, I could just read the words next to the drawings. "That's the ribcage; it's this part of your body." "That's a tooth and there are four different kinds." "The smallest bone in the body is in the ear." Piece of cake! Until we flipped to the last page. When he first turned the page, I was thrilled because it meant the book was almost done and it would be lights out. Except then I remembered what publishers keep on the last page of human body books just to torment unsuspecting babysitters. Yup, as that dawned on me Cole's little fingers slammed down on a drawing showing the differences between boys and girls.
"What's that?"
I lied. I said I didn't know.
Problem: this five year old can read.
"What's 'protection' mean?"
If I'd have been thinking on the spot I could have explained the word in a different context, but the only word that was coming into my head was "condom." Sorry, Cole, not gonna happen. Instead, I changed the subject and said it was time for bed. It was true, and I like to think it I did it in an inconspicuous way; he'd been stalling long enough. I'll be honest, I have no problem with the anatomy subject. Yes, I can say those words without giggling. Just a few months ago I taught a female friend infinitely more than she ever wants to know about male anatomy using my own drawings, textbook diagrams, and webmd. Not a problem. Also not a conversation I'm having with the five year old who had ten minutes earlier asked me to leave his room so he could put on his pajamas. That is not in my job description. Since I think he asked more out of a desire to stall than he did out of a need to know, I didn't even go for the "Ask Mom and Dad." The last thing I wanted was to invoke a, "Daddy, Miss Katie said..." Frankly, I don't think that's a conversation a five year old needs to have and definitely not with a babysitter.
I took the book away before he had the opportunity to read any more words and said it was bedtime. Cole really was just stalling. We moved on to something I'm a little more comfortable with: bedtime prayers. "Now I lay me... and thanks for helping Miss Katie dodge a bullet."
Thoughts? Similar stories?
<>< Katie
PS: In an earlier conversation, Cole told me that with his principal's permission his school's mascot could eat my school's mascot. Thanks a lot.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Merry Christmas
Wait! I have a legitimate, good thought! (Maybe).
The other day at work, a mother came to pick up her son. Two of us went to get him (me and student). The mom yelled down the hall to her son not to put his shoes back on. He nor the other student heard her. "Mom said not to put your shoes on because you have to put your boots on instead," I told him and then he actually listened. She laughed about the incident and said, "At least someone listens to me." She went to go help her son find his boots and I went back to work.
"Katie," the mom called again. "Merry Christmas."
Simple words, yet they stuck with me the whole day. If I would have passed her at some other point in time and she wished me a Merry Christmas I probably would not have thought anything of it. Yet, she called me back to wish me a Merry Christmas. Not a happy holiday. A Merry Christmas. I knew her before I was working with her son, and we're both Christians, yet I think it made both of our hearts smile to be able to wish sisters in Christ a Merry Christmas without worrying about offending anyone. After all, Jesus is the reason for the season.
Merry Christmas!
<>< Katie
"But the angel said to her, 'Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. You will be with Child and give birth to a Son, and you are to give Him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give Him the throne of His father David, and He will reign over the house of Jacob forever; His kingdom will never end.'" Luke 2:30-33
The other day at work, a mother came to pick up her son. Two of us went to get him (me and student). The mom yelled down the hall to her son not to put his shoes back on. He nor the other student heard her. "Mom said not to put your shoes on because you have to put your boots on instead," I told him and then he actually listened. She laughed about the incident and said, "At least someone listens to me." She went to go help her son find his boots and I went back to work.
"Katie," the mom called again. "Merry Christmas."
Simple words, yet they stuck with me the whole day. If I would have passed her at some other point in time and she wished me a Merry Christmas I probably would not have thought anything of it. Yet, she called me back to wish me a Merry Christmas. Not a happy holiday. A Merry Christmas. I knew her before I was working with her son, and we're both Christians, yet I think it made both of our hearts smile to be able to wish sisters in Christ a Merry Christmas without worrying about offending anyone. After all, Jesus is the reason for the season.
Merry Christmas!
<>< Katie
"But the angel said to her, 'Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. You will be with Child and give birth to a Son, and you are to give Him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give Him the throne of His father David, and He will reign over the house of Jacob forever; His kingdom will never end.'" Luke 2:30-33
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